


What Demons Will Do

by Kassius



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Lyrium Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kassius/pseuds/Kassius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has the worst day of his lyrium withdrawl yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Demons Will Do

It’s bad today. Harder than he ever remembers and he’s jumping at the slightest sound and movement; the breeze through the door, a bird flitting by the thin window. Commander Cullen tried to breathe, to stay still and try to remain focussed, and relaxed through the pain, the nausea and the images flickering across his eyes.

Demons, sorts he can no longer remember, curl their fingers around his chin, make him meet their eyes, and a blink later they’re gone. Cullen takes a deep breathe, trying to release it slowly but he only shakily pants it out.

“I can do this. Maker, give me strength, I can do this.” He repeats it like a mantra, around and around in his head. He stops pacing to lean against the desk; he doesn’t even know when he started moving.

 _“Oh sweet Templar, please don’t harm me.”_ He flinches at the velvet voice in his ear. _“I’m only here to serve you, as all magic-wielders must.”_ He pushes off the desk, hand in his hair and repeats what little he can remember of the Chant of Light.

 _“So strong willed. No other Templar matches your dedication.”_ He growls and swipes at his side. “No! You won’t have me!” He’s too hot, sweating but shivering in his coat and he tears it off but the lack of layers only makes him feel worse.

 _“She’s disappointed. That’s why she’s allowed herself to be so busy lately.”_ He’s whimpering, pain forcing him to his knees. _“She doesn’t know how to tell you she doesn’t want a weak man like you.”_ He throws up but nothing comes out even as he gasps between dry heaves.

The floor is bloodied, his fellows dead around him from fighting, or giving in. “I won’t give in. You can’t make me.” _“They don’t want you.” “Why have an unstable Templar on guard?” “Come, Cullen, you know you want it. You need it.”_

The breeze and sound of the door opening, then closing slowly knocks him from his knees and he scrambles back to the desk. She’s there, the Inquisitor, his love. She’ll help him. She has to. He needs her to.

He stops, watching her mouth move as she comes over to him. He _needs_ her to help him. He _desires_ her to help him through his.

“No! Get back!” He stands, sword in hand. “Remove this form, demon!” She backs away, as he desires her to, as she normally would. Her hands are up. “Remove this form! You aren’t worthy of her appearance!”

He’s shaking, he feels sick with rage, fear, the want to believe it’s really her but he knows it isn’t.

Her mouth opens to speak but he spits at her. “Leave me now or I strike you down where you stand!” He can’t see anymore, his vision is gone but when the demon doesn’t move he surges forward.

Up from her right hip to her left shoulder, he ignores her cry of alarm. No demon will tempt him. No matter how much they may act the part. _She_ ’s away in the Emerald Graves. From her left hip to her right shoulder and she’s pleading him, hands up in a meek defence. _She_ would have used her magic to defend herself. _She_ would have called for backup.

 _She_ would have stopped the sword through her chest.

 

He’s panting, shaking with almost a glee. He’s done it. He conquered the demons plaguing him and for the first time today his mind is clear and he drops his sword as the hallucination vanishes.

But as his mind comes sharp again, the lack of a metal _clang_ runs his blood cold and before him comes clear. _She_ **is** there. _She_ **is** real.

And his sword is through her.


End file.
